


Taking care of her for a change

by whatdoyoucallafemaletimelord



Category: Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post - Clockwork Princess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:13:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatdoyoucallafemaletimelord/pseuds/whatdoyoucallafemaletimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry decides Charlotte deserves a day off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking care of her for a change

**Author's Note:**

> Originally inspired by the prompt "Imagine your OTP decorating their future child’s room." However, this ended up turning into something else. I may or may not get around to writing about the actual event later.

The rain was coming down in sheets—so really, it was an ordinary day in England—when they arrived back at the Institute. The Enclave meeting that afternoon had gone smoothly, Charlotte directing it with nothing less than her usual poise. Once inside the carriage however, she allowed herself to relax some, letting her head fall back against the seat.

"Darling," Henry had said, reaching for her hands which rested atop her bulging belly, "You should rest when we get home. You seem worn out, and we can decorate Buford's room any day."

"Charles," Charlotte amended, turning her head to the side to look at him.

"Charles Buford?" he suggested, but upon seeing the measured look she gave him, said, "We can discuss it later."

"Thank you, Henry."

Charlotte thanked him again, now, as he helped her from the carriage and shucked off his jacket to drape it over her head and shoulders. While Charlotte hurried inside, Henry stayed back a moment to talk to Cyril.

"No matter what errand she says needs doing," he said, slipping a few coins into Cyril's palm, "don't take her anywhere tomorrow. She needs her rest."

"Yes, sir."

Cyril tugged on the reins and Balios and Xanthos neighed in response. The carriage disappeared around the back of the Institute while Henry jogged up the steps to meet Charlotte, who was standing in the doorway.

"What was that-" she began, but was cut off as Henry pulled the heavy wooden doors shut behind him, which closed with a thud. 

She could see him better now that they were inside the small entryway, the space illuminated by witchlight. His damp clothes clung to his body, making her feel uncomfortable just by looking at him. He shook his head like a dog trying to dry itself off, drops of water flying from his ginger hair. She gave a little laugh which caused him to look up.

"Did I do something?" he asked, hazel eyes bright.

"No, nothing." Charlotte looked down to try to hide her amusement.

Henry closed the distance between them to lift her chin. "That's the first smile I've seen from you all day." She tried to avoid his gaze but with him just inches away it was impossible. "Lottie." Her dark brown eyes locked with his for a moment and a second later his lips brushed over hers lightly.

A small gasp escaped her and her took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His hand shifted from its position on her chin to cup the side of her face. Charlotte's arms went around him, drawing him closer. She ignored the fact that he was soaked, focusing instead on the warmth of his mouth, and for a few moments they were both lost in the kiss, the stress of the busy day wearing off.

Henry realized he was getting his wife's clothes wet only after several minutes. He pulled back abruptly and Charlotte's disappointment could clearly be seen on her face. "Sorry, darling, I... I'm drenched."

"I know, dear."

"By the Angel, you're going to catch a cold! That would _not_ be good for little Buford."

" _Charles,_ " Charlotte corrected him, but he was too busy worrying to notice. At times he could be so confident, but mostly, Henry was nervous and clumsy and unsure of himself. She found it endearing, actually, how even after years of married life he could still be so nervous around her, as if he was afraid of messing up terribly. As if she wouldn't love him no matter what.

"You've got to get out of those clothes," Henry was saying now. He placed his hand on the small of her back to help her upstairs, although she didn't need it. 

"I'll fetch Sophie for you," he said, after he had settled Charlotte on their bed and was on his way back out of the room.

"Wait, Henry—"

"Yes, darling?" Henry stuck his head back in the room.

"You could help me."

"Oh... I'm not sure about that, I..."

Charlotte rose from the bed to take his hand and coaxed him to sit down with her. "It's nothing you haven't done before."

Henry turned a light shade of red. "But Sophie's so much better at this than I am, she knows what she's doing with dresses."

"Well, Sophie might be busy, and the sooner I change the better, right?"

"Right. Right, yes, of course you're right darling. I'll just..."

 

A few hours later Henry personally brought a tray with dinner up to their room. He nudged the door open with his foot and slowly walked over to the nightstand to set the tray down, trying his best not to make a sound. He pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and the old floorboards creaked beneath its weight. "Bugger," he swore under his breath. He glanced at Charlotte to see if he had woken her. Thankfully, her eyes remained shut and he exhaled a sigh of relief.

For a few minutes, he simply sat admiring her as her chest rose and fell evenly. Her face looked peaceful and relaxed, a rare occasion since the whole Mortmain business. And while he was so proud of her for getting elected Consul, it worried him endlessly that the extra work was too much on her, especially now that she was pregnant.

Charlotte's breathing hitched, snapping Henry out of his little reverie. Her eyes were still closed but her brow was now furrowed and she was mumbling "Jessie" repeatedly. Now, louder and more clearly, she called his name.

Henry quickly leaned forward and put his hand to the side of her face. "Lottie, I'm here," he soothed.

Her eyes fluttered open at his touch and the sound of his voice. They focused on his face and softened around the edges. She smiled weakly up at him as a lone tear rolled down her cheek. Henry wiped it away with his thumb.

"Dreaming about Jessamine again?" he whispered.

She nodded silently.

Henry opened his mouth to speak again but stopped when Charlotte's eyes grew wide. She moved his hand from her face to her stomach. 

"Do you feel that?" They waited a moment in silence before it happened again. This time they both felt their child's kick and a smile broke out across Charlotte's face. "That's your son."

Henry laughed gleefully as he added his other hand to their pile, and she remembered when she first broke the news to him and the others in the dining room. He had danced her around the room until he became concerned that it might affect the baby's health. He continued to be concerned for the both of them naturally, even though months had passed and Charlotte reassured him almost daily that she was capable of doing normal, everyday activities.

"That's amazing," Henry breathed. He paused for a second before continuing on. "Charlotte," he said, moving his gaze from their hands to her face. "Would you stay home tomorrow? I know you probably had plans to pick up some more things for Charles' room, but we have enough to start with. And I don't even think we should do it tomorrow because I can tell you've been more tired lately. Can we just relax for one day?"

"Well," Charlotte said, a half-smile on her face, "Only because you said 'Charles.'"

Henry dropped a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you, darling. Now here, I brought you dinner. Some of Bridget's best cooking I might say."

 

After she had finished eating, Charlotte's eyes began to grow heavy and Henry insisted that she go back to sleep. He knew it only meant that she would wake early the next morning, well-rested and eager to start busying herself with some sort of work, but he could rest assured that she would at least remain at the Institute, thanks to bribing Cyril. No doubt that if she rose before him though that she would try to find something work-related to occupy herself with, but that was Charlotte. The woman he fell in love with. Always wanting to be occupied, ever-fearful of being a waste of space. Tomorrow will do her good though, he thought. And she may even enjoy it.

Once Charlotte dozed off enough that she began to snore softly, Henry got up from his seat and walked across the room to the bureau. He quickly pulled on his sleeping clothes, discarding his other clothes in a basket by the door, and then slid under the covers. He hadn't realized how tired he was too, until he was sidled up next to his sleeping wife in their warm bed. Within minutes he was fast asleep, a smile on his face as he dreamt of the blissfully uneventful day ahead of them.

**Author's Note:**

> You may have noticed Henry is not in a wheelchair in this, even though it is supposed to be set after the events of Clockwork Princess take place. There are two reasons for this; one being I forgot (whoops) and also I don't want poor Henry to be handicapped, so in this fic he isn't.


End file.
